


A Scent of Cedarwood and Lavender

by blahblahwhy



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/F, Fisting, Hair Washing, Lesbian Sex, Massage, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, everything is aftercare especially everything that comes before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahblahwhy/pseuds/blahblahwhy
Summary: Andromache of Scythia and Quynh make an important discovery: a box full of soaps.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43
Collections: Fic In A Box





	A Scent of Cedarwood and Lavender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selden/gifts).



Andy smiled to herself as she tapped the last shovel full of dirt into the grave of the bandit she had just dispatched and buried. She and Quynh were traveling east once more, following the road of the merchants all the way to Shanghai.They had happened upon the bandits outside of Mosul, or the bandits had happened upon them. It had not been the bandits’ lucky day. 

Andy looked up at Quynh, who was rifling through the bandits’ caravan. The sun shone on Quynh’s dark hair, reflecting against it brilliantly, carving in golden streaks. Her face was still a little flushed from battle, her cheeks turned a rosy hue underneath the travel dirt that hung on them both. Andy couldn’t help but smile as she watched Quynh rooting around in the bandits’ trunks. She let out a cry of triumph and held aloft a quiver full of arrows. 

“Andy, look!” she said, waving the quiver around. Andy grinned at how happy she was from the discovery of the weapons. 

“Good,” Andy said, as Quynh returned to digging through the trunks. “I worried yours were getting too tattered to fly straight.” 

Quynh’s head shot up and she glared at Andy until she noticed the gleam in her eyes. “Ha,” she said, “very funny.” 

Quynh glanced pointedly around at the bandits’ graves. “I noticed I took out three more of them than you did,” she said. “Is your labrys getting dull? Do you need me to sharpen it for you? Or perhaps you are getting slow in your old age. How are your joints feeling? Do we need to stop for some herbs?”

Andy rolled her eyes at Quynh. “What I could really use is a wash,” she muttered, looking down at her blood-stained forearms. 

“Andy!” Quynh cried, “look!” She opened a trunk to display the finest array of soft cloths, soaps, and cleaning oils Andy had ever seen. “Looks like they turned over a merchant of cleansing goods,” she said, pulling out glistening bottles of oil with flower petals and herbs suspended in them. 

Andy’s head snapped up as a memory tingled at the back of her mind.

“There are hot springs not far from here,” she said. 

Quynh met her gaze and grinned.

They packed up as much of the bandits’ cache as they could carry, including the treasure trove of soaps, and headed south to where Andy had visited, many centuries prior. 

On the western banks of the Tigris river was a series of hot springs. Several had spa facilities constructed where men would go and carry out their ablutions, but several were free standing. Andy and Quynh found an inconspicuous clearing in which to set up camp, and waited for nightfall. Although there didn’t seem to be anyone about, they preferred privacy. 

As luck would have it, the moon that night was full and beautiful. It shone brightly down on Andy and Quynh as they made their way over to the springs. Once arrived, they shed their filthy clothes, setting them aside to wash later, and stepped gingerly down into the springs. 

Andy had chosen to wash with soap that smelled of cedarwood and sage, and she relaxed into the feeling of warmth as she eased down into the water. Her soap, once wet, smelled of fragrant trees and plants. She began to rub the soap between her hands, readying it.

“What do you think you are doing?” Quynh asked. 

“Um, I’m getting ready to wash,” Andy said. 

“No,” Quynh replied. “I want to wash you.”

“Oh,” Andy said, a little surprised. “I… I would like to wash you as well.”

“Yes,” Quynh said, taking the soap from Andy’s hands. “After.”

Quynh took the soap in her hands and began lathering it up. She was close to Andy, mere inches from her, and Andy found her pulse quickening in anticipation of Quynh’s touch. She felt Quynh’s arm brush her shoulder as she reached for one of the soft washing cloths from the kit, and put the soap a safe distance from the water.

“Look down,” Quynh instructed, and Andy did so without hesitation, exposing the back of her neck to her love. It was a particularly vulnerable position: Andy had never been eager to try and survive a beheading. But this was different. This was Quynh, her heart, her love. After walking alone for so long, Andy had found Quynh in the desert, and she intended never to walk alone again.

Andy’s hair was chin-length, and it fell to the sides of her face as she gazed down at the water. Quynh gently swept a few strands to the side and placed the warm washing cloth against the nape of her neck, pressing it gently into place.

Andy felt tension she had not known she felt flowing out of her neck and shoulders with the rivulets of water that ran down from the cloth. She barely suppressed a moan. 

“Mmm,” Quynh murmured in agreement. “There you are.” 

She began rubbing the washcloth in gentle circles along the back of Andy’s neck and over to her shoulders, massaging out dirt and tension in equal measure. Once she had cleaned the back of Andy’s neck and upper back to her satisfaction, she pulled the washcloth forward, and placed a finger on Andy’s chin, tilting her head up to meet her eyes.

Quynh’s eyes were soft, and Andy melted into them.

Still gazing into her eyes, Quynh adjusted her stance. Andy was sat on a flat rock in the water, and Quynh brought her knees up until she was kneeling on Andy’s lap, bracketing her thighs with her own. By the light of the moon, Quynh could see Andy swallow hard. Her pupils were blown wide, and Quynh knew, if she leant down and kissed the side of Andy’s mouth, Andy would shiver with anticipation and pleasure.

She did it, just for fun. Andy shivered, despite the warmth of the water.

“Have patience,” Quynh whispered, low and soft, drawing the washing cloth forward to rub gently at the front of Andy’s neck. 

Andy had had her throat cut more times than she could count. She had felt hot blood spring forth from her arteries and the warmth of her vitality flow down her chest. She hated the feeling of bleeding out, of her heat seeping into the world. The feeling of Quynh drawing a wet cloth across her neck, squeezing out the hot water until it flowed down her chest and over the tops of her breasts until it met the water below was a rhyme to that feeling, something deeply familiar but vastly different. This warmth spread throughout her body and made her feel more vital and alive than ever. 

Andy was keenly aware of the weight of Quynh’s body on her thighs, the press of flesh to flesh, the warmth of her. Andy lifted her hand under the water to caress Quynh’s thigh, pressing her palm against the warmth she found there.

“Shhhh,” Quynh said, still running the washing cloth over Andy’s shoulders. “Not yet.”

Quynh ran the cloth under Andy’s arms and down to her fingers. She ran the cloth back over the soap before concentrating on Andy’s elbows, scrubbing at the grime that had accumulated there after several weeks on the road. She ran the washcloth over Andy’s forearms, rubbing away the dried blood, and down to Andy’s hands and took her time, scrubbing back and front, before setting the cloth aside to massage Andy’s hands, rubbing each finger and digging her knuckles into the base of her palm. 

Andy felt herself relaxing further, deeper, more and more completely, with each squeeze of her hand. Quynh’s fingers dug deep enough to nearly hurt, but the pain was tension released. She could feel the troubles of the road flowing out of her like wine from a cask and she closed her eyes, relaxing into the sensation. 

Quynh reached over to the box once more and grabbed a small brush, using it to scrub Andy’s fingernails, gently at first, and then harder to get rid of some of the grime caked under her nails. 

Andy sighed and opened her eyes. “I believe it’s your turn,” she said.

“I haven’t even done your legs!” Quynh protested. “You know how I feel about your legs.”

Andy had a sly grin on her face as she hooked her free arm around Quynh’s waist, pivoting quickly and switching places with her before she knew what had happened. Quynh let out a grunt of protest, then a giggle as she realized what had happened. The water lapped around Quynh’s shoulders and she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, smiling. 

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she said.

Andy smiled and picked up the soap Quynh had chosen earlier, the one that smelled of lavender and lemongrass. 

Andy gently scrubbed at the dirt on Quynh’s, neck, and chest, trying to go as slowly as Quynh had, massaging her shoulders in tiny circles. The muscles in Quynh’s back were tightest -- she had had cause to use her bow far too many times on this trip already -- and Andy carefully massaged around the edges of the ropes of muscle, making sure they were as pliant as possible before she pressed in with the butt of her hand, pressing against the knots until they relented. Quynh groaned as the muscles in her back released their stranglehold, and moved her head from side to side, experimentally.

“That hurt, Andromache,” she said, a little stern, before her face relaxed into a smile. “But it feels much better now.” 

“Good,” Andromache said, then looked over at the box of soaps and oils. “What would you like to use on your hair?” 

Quynh scowled, just a little. “You didn’t let me do your hair!” she said.

“I don’t have much hair,” Andy replied. “Besides, since that bandit bled all over yours…” 

“Blech,” Quynh said, “I’d nearly forgotten. Fine.” Then she grinned. “The box has roasted bồ kết,” she said. “Get the bowl and break up some of the pods. Add some of the lime oil.”

“What is bồ kết?” Andy asked, slowly unbraiding Qunyh’s hair. Quynh wore her hair in a braid most of the time, which Andy appreciated for its practicality. Still, she loved to see it loose like this, cascading down her back like a long unbroken waterfall. 

Quynh pointed out a small bundle of black pods. “It’s how we wash hair at home,” Quynh said. “I don’t know where the trader got it. I didn’t think it grew this far west. I’ve been having to make due without for a very long time.”

Andy finished unbrading her hair, leaving it loose in the water of the hot springs. Already it was looking cleaner, the caked-on blood from the bandit dissolving in the hot water and leaving the strands to separate on their own. 

“Lay back,” Andy said, and Quynh lay back to float in the water. 

Andy stood to grab the bowl and the seed pods, and looked down at her love. Quynh’s hair spread around her, a halo of the night sky flecked with stars, floating along the surface of the water. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes resting gently on her cheeks. Her arms floated at her sides, and her body, all taut muscle and remarkable strength, was completely relaxed. Andy’s gaze lingered on her breasts with their pert nipples, and longed to take them into her mouth, swirling her tongue around first one nipple, then the other, pinching them lightly in her lips until Quynh gasped. She looked down at Quynh’s legs, with their strong calves and thighs, and followed up to her lover’s most sacred place. She looked at the hair, curling ever so slightly out of the water, and longed to place her lips along that slit, kissing slowly and slightly and feeling Quynh’s wetness begin to flow, until Quynh begged for her tongue to lick along her clit, begged to feel her fingers inside.

Andy swallowed hard. There would be time enough for that. In the meantime, Andy could look at her like this forever, but she had a job to do. 

Andy found the bowl and the seed pods and did as she was told, breaking the pods apart and mixing them together in the bowl with the lime oil. It smelled wonderful, and she was very impressed by the suds the mixture created. 

She left the bowl on the side of the hot spring and slid her arms underneath Quynh’s shoulders and behind her knees, lifting her ever so gently and tilting her up, sliding behind her in the process such that Quynh was seated on Andy’s lap. Quynh buried her face into Andy’s neck, and breathed deeply. 

“Ohh, you smell so nice,” she said, and gave her a small kiss right at the base of her jaw, where she knew the sensation would drive her wild. Andy inhaled sharply and pulled back just a little. 

“Soon,” she said. 

Quynh dipped her hair into the shampoo mixture and began to rub it in between her hands. Andy poured a tiny bit up near the base of her skull, and massaged her fingers into Quynh’s scalp. 

“Mmmmm,” Quynh moaned in pleasure. 

“Are you ready for the top of your head?” Andy asked, and Quynh nodded and closed her eyes. Andy poured most of the sudsy water onto the crown of Quynh’s head and began massaging her scalp, running her fingers through Quynh’s hair and massaging away all the dirt and blood and pain of their travels together.

They nearly always had blood in their hair. Anytime they sustained a head wound, well. Just because they couldn’t die permanent deaths and just because their flesh was practiced at knitting itself back together more quickly than most did not mean the wounds did not bleed. They all bled. It was not only the barbarian’s blood in Quynh’s hair.

Andy could not keep all the deaths from happening. She could not always protect Quynh when those who would hurt them came down with knives and swords or rocks and fists. But she could do this, she could wash away the dried blood and leave her hair as clean as though it had never happened. She couldn’t keep her scalp from opening, but she could massage love into it, and cleanse it from all the pain it had endured. 

Quynh’s deep sigh brought her back to reality. She saw Quynh was done scrubbing the rest of her hair, so she reached back under her knees and slowly, gently, dunked her back into the warm water until the suds had all floated away. 

Andy slowly, gently, leaned down and kissed Quynh, softly at first, then deeper, sliding her tongue in and sucking against hers. Quynh’s eyebrows shot up and she reached her arms around Andy’s neck, pulling herself closer. They tipped up out of the water, and it streamed down out of Quynh’s hair, spreading warmth over Andy’s arms. 

“Back to camp,” Quynh said in a husky voice.

“Yes,” Andy breathed, sighing against Quynh’s neck. 

They wrapped themselves in clean flannels and gathered up their filthy clothes in a sack -- they would wash them in the river tomorrow, when they had less pressing things to do -- and slipped on their shoes to walk the short way back to camp. They could barely keep their hands off each other, Andy bumping Quynh’s shoulder with hers, Quynh leaning in to steal a quick kiss on the side of Andy’s cheek. Andy laughed and leaned toward Quynh, but she was off, her shoes slapping against the ground, bundles of dirty clothes clutched to her chest.

Andy grinned and gave chase, holding the box carefully still against her as she ran toward Quynh. 

When she reached the camp, Quynh tossed aside the bundle of clothing and splayed out against the bedroll they had prepared earlier, her flannel falling just so to expose one breast, one upper thigh, and just the slightest tickle of pubic hair. 

Andy, close behind, made a low noise in the back of her throat and set down the box of soaps. She let her own flannel fall open and knelt down, crawling up her love’s body. Andy kissed Quynh’s ankle, her calf, and licked a stripe up toward the back of Quynh’s knee, making her squeal with pleasure. Andy pressed her lips into the soft flesh of Quynh’s upper thigh, kissing up and up, but just skirting around her hair. She pressed a kiss right into the soft flesh of Quynh’s lower belly, and up toward her ribs. Quynh gasped as Andy kissed along her breast, catching her nipple between her lips and sucking ever so gently. 

Quynh propped herself up on her elbows and grabbed Andy’s chin, pulling her up urgently. “Kiss me,” she said, “I want to taste you.”

Andy kissed into Quynh’s mouth and pressed herself up against the full length of Quynh’s body. Then, with just the slightest of shifts in weight, she pressed her upper thigh right into the flesh between Quynh’s legs, and Quynh gasped and collapsed onto her back. She opened her legs and Andy could feel her wetness. She was so ready, but that didn’t mean Andy wasn’t going to take her time.

Andy kissed back down Quynh’s neck, more urgently, harder, biting tiny marks into her skin as she went. Quynh moaned again as Andy found her breast again, and took her into her mouth. Andy moved her hand to Quynh’s other breast, and pinched her nipples in unison, sucking against one and rolling the other between her fingers. Quynh gasped and arched her back, tilting herself toward Andy urgently, wanting more. 

Andy, still lightly flicking one nipple, reached down with the flat of her hand and laid it gently and flat against Quynh’s mound. Quynh arched her hips into the sensation, and Andy held her hand there, just applying pressure, as Quynh moaned. 

“Tell me what you want,” Andy said, and Quynh just moaned in response, panting and trying to grind against the flat of her hand. 

“I… want…” Quynh said, then switched to her native tongue. “I want you to touch me there, I want you to fuck me and lick me and feel the inside of me. I want to feel you inside!”

“Yes,” Andy breathed, and finally let her fingers dip inside. She rubbed two fingers gently along Quynh’s clit, up and down, as she sat back on her heels. She looked her lover up and down. Quynh’s wet hair was splayed out around her head again, less ethereal than when she was floating in the water but no less lovely, she saw the marks she had traced in her skin already beginning to fade, and she looked at her favorite part of her lover.

She moved her fingers to part the lips of Quynh’s vulva and just… looked at it for a moment or two. No matter how long they had been together, no matter how many times over how many days and nights, no matter how many lifetimes, Andy never tired of the sight of her love, wet and welcoming, ready for her. 

She leaned down and ran the flat of her tongue all the way up Quynh’s folds and up to her clit. Quynh moaned in appreciation, so Andy did it again, slower this time, and then once more, licking up her juices as she went. When she got to her clit this time, Andy pressed it between her lips and sucked gently on it, running her tongue in small, slow circles that made Quynh gasp and grab for the blankets. 

Andy pulled her head back and arranged Quynh’s legs over her shoulders, changing the angle ever so slightly. She ducked her head back down and began to inscribe slow curlicues just where she knew Quynh liked it -- slightly under the nub of her clit. 

Andy used one finger to draw small circles around her opening, applying only the slightest bit of pressure. She could feel Quynh pulsating underneath her, groaning for her to enter her, to go inside…

Andy slipped one finger inside, and marveled, as she always did, at the feeling of Quynh’s warm walls around her finger. She moved her finger in and out, gently, until Quynh cried out for more. She inserted a second finger, massaging Quynh inside just as she had in the hot springs. 

She pulled her head back and looked up at Quynh. “More?” she asked, Quynh gazed down at her with eyes full of love and lust, pleasure and frustration. 

“Yes,” she said, “more, please, more, everything. I want to feel all of you tonight.”

Andy ducked her head back down and resumed her slow licking as she spread her two fingers apart to prepare Quynh for a third. She entered her with her third finger and moved it in and out, finding a rhythm until she felt Quynh finally relax, giving in totally to the sensation. Andy took that as her cue to add her pinkie finger, and moved them together up to past the second knuckle.

This startled a groan, deep and guttural, out of Quynh’s throat. “Yes,” she moaned, “yes!” Andy knew that meant she wanted more, but wasn’t yet ready for it. She pumped her hand ever so slightly in and out, and stroked at Quynh’s insides.

She leaned back, gently rearranging their bodies so she could sit back and pull Quynh onto her lap. She pulled Quynh’s hips up onto her thighs as Quynh moved her jaw and gasped with the sensation. Sensing Quynh was ready for more, she readjusted her hand so she could take her thumb as well, and feeling Quynh relax around her, pressed in further until her knuckles were right against her opening. 

Quynh drew in a shuddering breath, giddy from the pleasure of it, from having Andy fill her up so completely. She concentrated on drawing Andy further in, taking even more of her. Andy, feeling the flexing of Quynh’s muscles, used one hand to draw her up and open and increased the pressure of her knuckles against Quynh’s opening. 

Quynh moaned in pleasure as Andy filled her fully, arching her back and giving herself over to the sensation of pleasure and slight pressure pain of the stretch around Andy’s knuckles. Andy curled her fingers inside of her as Quynh gulped air in, seeing stars and tugging back at Andy's fingers. She opened herself up as fully as she could and mumbled, “Yes, now,” to Andy.

Andy began to find a rhythm of stroking Quynh’s most secret ridges and pumping her hand in and out ever so slightly. Quynh groaned with pleasure and saw sparks behind her eyes. She drew gulping breaths as her body gulped against Andy’s hand, drawing it ever further in. 

Quynh’s breaths were coming faster now, and Andy let the fingers of her other hand rest gently right on the spot Quynh loved underneath her clit, letting Quynh’s body’s own rhythm rub against her.

Each breath became a moan, and Andy kept pace as Quynh’s moaning came faster and higher until she cried out, shuddering and shattering, clenching mightily around Andy’s hand.

Quynh lay motionless except for the heaving of her breaths in her chest and her muscles still fluttering around Andy’s hand. She heaved out a satisfied groan and said simply, “Oh. My love.”

“Mmm,” said Andy in return, smiling with satisfaction, keeping her hand still as Quynh rode the waves of the aftershocks of her love. She loved to see her love undone like this, beautiful and prone and full of soft words and softer thoughts. “Are you ready?” she asked, and when Quynh nodded her assent, slowly withdrew her hand. 

Quynh shuddered again, smaller this time, and watched in wonder as Andy licked her hand clean. “May I?” she asked, and when Quynh nodded, Andy gently licked up her remaining juices, drawing another slight cry from Quynh as her overstimulated clit pulsed under her tongue, shuddering again around her tongue.

Andy drew the blanket up and over their naked bodies, encouraging Quynh to turn onto her side. Andy wrapped her arms around Quynh as they lay together.

“I love you,” Quynh murmured, her voice already ragged with sleep.

“And I you,” Andy replied. “Hush now.”

“You smell so good,” Quynh said, inhaling both the cedarwood and sage still lingering on Andy’s arms and their own scents of sweat and pleasure. 

“You do as well,” Andy said, breathing in lemongrass, lavender, and lime together with Quynh’s salty-sweet flavor. She licked her finger once more, just to taste her again.

“You’re mine in the morning,” Quynh said, stifling a yawn. 

“I’m yours always,” Andy replied. “Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Forever is a very long time. Long enough to metaphorically wash any metaphorical blood off of anything.


End file.
